


Storm Warnings

by orphan_account



Category: Cabin Pressure, Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin meets the Doctor.</p><p>Flight was no longer a miracle.  People used to talk of days when everyone was stuck at the ground, looking up.  Now people were always looking down, looking at how small everything had become, looking at how tiny everyday life was turning out to be.  Martin loved that feeling, loved being able to leave it all behind.  But he had only ever been a passenger.  He had left the ozone layer, but only for a short time, only to land again.  He had wanted to go everywhere, to fly everywhere.  Different planets and galaxies and soar and soar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Warnings

Martin had always wanted to be a pilot.

Flight was no longer a miracle.  People used to talk of days when everyone was stuck at the ground, looking up.  Now people were always looking down, looking at how small everything had become, looking at how tiny everyday life was turning out to be.  Martin loved that feeling, loved being able to leave it all behind.  But he had only ever been a passenger.  He had left the ozone layer, but only for a short time, only to land again.  He had wanted to go everywhere, to fly everywhere.  Different planets and galaxies and soar and soar.

He tried to remind himself this as he mustered the energy to leave the small cocoon of warmth in his blankets.  His phone was ringing.  If it was Carolyn, she would be furious if he let it go into voicemail (“Hi, I’m Captain Martin Crieff and—wait, just call me Martin.  No wait, Skipper.  Actually, better not confuse you, it’s best you call me—BEEP”).  He groaned and reached a hand into the horrible cold outside his blankets, groping on his bedside table until his fingers wrapped around the icy mobile.  He turned it on and shuddered as it made chilling contact with his ear.

“Hello?” he rasped through a still asleep throat.

“Martin, _hello_.” Martin rubbed sleepy eyes.  Carolyn’s voice was not the first thing he’d prefer to hear in the morning.  “Get out of bed, we’ve got a job.  Dropping off a client on the Cerisian Moon.  Be at the spacefield in an hour.”  Brief as always, Carolyn hung up.

Martin finally, blearily, opened his eyes, casting them around his darkened attic room.  The only light was the yellowish light from the two faraway moons filtering in dusty swirls from his skylight, which he always kept propped open on nights like these.  It meant that it was cold enough to see his breath, but if he left it shut the room would smell like clinging earth, mothballs and cobwebs.  This way he felt like he could smell stars. 

The ceiling in the room was a sloping slant, one he knew would brush the top of his head just a little if he sat up in bed.  He didn’t like the sight of the peeling paint on it, so he covered it with constellation maps and model planes.  A telescope lay propped against the wall, but he hardly used it anymore.  He already knew _this_ sky by heart.

He made himself get up, and after that he moved quickly, if only to get away from the biting cold.  He took a quick shower, hoping he wouldn’t wake anyone else in the building, made coffee, and got dressed.

There were still times when he put on his hat and his coat with four stripes when he wondered if he was dreaming behind closed eyelids.  He still remembered when Carolyn gave him this uniform.  It fit badly, and it was dusty and moth-eaten, but it had stripes and gold braid.  All he had to do was not think about what happened to the person who had worn it before him. Traveling through space, even in this day and age, had its risks.

He drove to the spacefield in his van.  Sometimes when he was stuck in traffic he imagined taking off from the wet asphalt and flying, wings erupting from each side, a spaceplane named Icarus Removals. 

When he arrived he wasted no time, but boarded GERTI right away.  In the light of the dying moons it looked eerie and quiet, but Martin had grown very fond of it.  The model was very old, still made to look like the aeroplanes of the yonder days.  Two wings and a nose and a cockpit and little windows for passengers to peek out of.  Just looking around the spacefield, he could see much more, for lack of better word, “spacey” models. This one was practically medieval in comparison.  In fact, nearly a third of their customers were history buffs.  They’d even gotten an archeologist once, who hadn’t been aware that they had actually meant to take off the ground “in such a fragile artifact”.

He sat warming his hands in the cockpit, as Arthur made noise in the galley, and Douglas reclined in his seat, hat over his eyes, snoring gently.  He considered drawing something on his face, but he knew from past experiences that Douglas was a very light sleeper.  It was all rather peaceful, waiting for Carolyn to show up with the client, the dull anticipation he always had before a flight, before he could leave the ground. Martin felt himself dozing off slightly.

“Hello!” A loud voice rang through the small cockpit and Martin jumped in his seat.  Douglas snapped alert much more ceremoniously, straightening himself slowly and swiveling in his chair to stare at the intruder as Martin did the same.

“You must be the pilots.  Wonderful.  Nice hats.” A man in a tweed jacket and bow tie snatched up Martin’s hat and put it on his head.  Martin squeaked in protest.

“Who are you?  What are you doing here?  You can’t just come into the flight deck, it isn’t allowed.”  Martin took his hat back from the stranger, and hugged it to his chest.

“You’ll find, Captain, that I am most definitely allowed to be here.” The man flashed something at him, a certificate of sorts.  Martin wasn’t sure what it said, but it looked official, and all of a sudden there was nothing wrong with this man being here.  He _had_ called him Captain, after all.  The man beamed.  “Just call me the Doctor.”

“Okay,” Martin said, and he smiled awkwardly. He saw Douglas raise his eyebrows at him from behind the strange man’s back.

“Wow! It really is amazing in here. I haven’t been in a ship like this for seventy-three years!” The Doctor spiraled around the tiny flight deck, peering at the various modules and controls. “Oh, are these the flight plans?” he said, gesturing to one of the screens in front of Martin. The software was so outdated that Carolyn practically had to bribe an official in the ISPA for them to even use it.

“Yes, they are,” Martin said and suddenly the Doctor was crowding in front of him, bending over and looking at the plans, leaving Martin with a face full of tweed jacket that was threatening to upset him from his seat. He threw a helpless look at Douglas, who shrugged as if to say ‘you’re the one who let him in’.

Martin stood up and cleared his throat. “E-excuse me, Doctor. We have to take off now so I’m g-going to have to ask you to return to your seat,” Martin said timidly. The Doctor spun around suddenly, startling Martin again. He looked worried, and was chewing his lip. When he saw Martin’s confused face, his face seemed to clear. He smiled, clapped Martin on the shoulder, and walked out of the flight deck.

“We always get the _mental_ passengers,” Douglas sighed and Martin could only nod in baffled agreement.

But finally they were shooting down the runway, wheels leaving the earth, rocket engines firing them up into the stratosphere, into the starry sky, into the far away. Martin felt a grin light his face as he left behind his world, letting it grow small behind him. He felt Douglas smirk behind him. “Oh, shut up, that was a rather good take off,” Martin said, still grinning as he steered GERTI on course.

“I’ve seen better, but it was decent, I give you that,” Douglas said, and his voice became serious. “You’re improving, Martin.”

Martin shot a surprised look at Douglas. “Say that again?” he squeaked, but Douglas just snorted and turned his attention back to the console.

They were just passing the Alexandrian Space Station when Arthur came into the flight deck.

“Our passenger is _brilliant_. He says he’s a time traveler from a forgotten planet! Except he got thrown out of his spaceship so that’s why he’s using ours!” Arthur was pacing around the flight deck, throwing his hands around maniacally. Much too excited for such an ungodly hour.

“Arthur, please,” Douglas groaned, just as Arthur said, “And he keeps saying we’re going to be attacked by pirates!”

There was a shocked silence for a time. Then Douglas said, “He really _is_ daft.”

Martin was frightened. “What if he’s right? There have been rumors of space pirates lately.”

“Oh, please Martin. This man says he can _travel through time_. Are you really going to take him seriously?” Douglas said, swiveling in his chair to look straight at Martin. When Martin continued to look serious, he settled back in his seat with an air of resignation.

“Arthur, could you bring the Doctor in here?” Martin said, and not a minute later, he was brought in. This time, as Martin was marginally more prepared, he was able to get a good look. The man really was an eccentric, dressed in a strange bow-tie-and-braces ensemble that reminded Martin strongly of old photos of his grandfather. He also seemed to be holding a green glow wand that was making a high pitched noise.

“What is that?” Martin asked suspiciously, as the Doctor began to wave it at the controls. “Stop! What are you doing?” Was he interfering with the systems?

“You’ve got pirates approaching, Captain!” The Doctor exclaimed, examining his glowing wand thing. “They’ve disguised themselves with a cloaking filter. It doesn’t show up on your radar,” The Doctor turned to Martin. “This equipment is rather old, isn’t it?” Martin flushed.

“What is that?” Douglas said.

“It’s my sonic screwdriver of course,” The Doctor said smugly, just as GERTI came to a sudden, jarring stop. Everything went completely silent. Martin couldn’t hear the engines, couldn’t hear anything except their own breathing.

Carolyn burst into the flight deck. “What have you done, Martin? You haven’t scheduled another expensive diversion, have you?”

“I haven’t done anything!” Martin said, his voice becoming progressively more high-pitched. “We’ve just… stopped!”

“Well, un-stop us!” Carolyn bellowed. “Douglas!”

“Carolyn, he’s right, we’ve just… stopped,”

“Well, obviously, but—”

“If I can just interrupt for just a moment,” the Doctor said, and Carolyn turned in surprise as if just realizing he was in the room. “I think we’ve got company,” the Doctor continued, just as lights from outside flooded the flight deck. There was certainly another spaceship outside, heading right towards them.

“It must be the pirates!” Arthur exclaimed. Carolyn sputtered in horror. Douglas and Martin sat transfixed by the lights coming closer, unable to move.

“Everyone, calm down,” the Doctor said. “Captain, turn everything off. Just keep the air filters on.”

Martin looked at Carolyn who swallowed visibly and nodded. Douglas nodded as well, and together they switched off almost everything. They were plunged into darkness, except for the lights still streaming in from outside.

“The artificial gravity field will deactivate soon as well,” Martin said, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the complete silence.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand,” Arthur said. “What good will turning everything off do?”

“Right now, they have us locked on, so we’re trapped. But if we act like a dead ship, maybe they’ll treat us like a dead ship,” the Doctor said, peering out the window.

“Which is… how?” Arthur asked.

“They’ll leave us alone…?” Martin asked breathlessly. His heart was thundering so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. His legs were felt shaky and weak and he was glad he was sitting down. He had always known that flying had its risks, but pirate attacks were just so _rare_ he’d never expect it to ever happen to him. But here they were, with only an eccentric, daft man called ‘the Doctor’ who seemed able to help them. Even Douglas seemed stunned.

The Doctor shrugged. “It’s the best chance we’ve got.”

“Hold on!” Douglas spoke up. “You knew this was going to happen. You saw the plans and you looked worried. Why didn’t you tell us we were going to be attacked by pirates?”

“Is this true?” Carolyn said sternly, seeming to forget her fear.

The Doctor looked sheepish. “I just really needed to get to the Cerisian Moon!” He smiled apologetically.

Carolyn seemed to expand in her rage, until even Arthur was slowly backing up into the wall of the flight deck and both Martin and Douglas drew back in their seats. Martin wondered at how the Doctor was able to stand his ground in the face of such ire. But he just stood there, staring calmly.

Martin felt like this man could face an army, could face monstrosities, and just stand there like he was now, head tilted to the side and staring.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure none of you are hurt,” he said, and Martin was oddly reassured by this statement, as if he could trust this complete stranger.

That was, until, they heard a metallic pounding noise reverberate throughout GERTI. Someone was knocking down the hatch door. All sanity quickly degraded into panic. Arthur practically leaped into Carolyn’s arms, burying his face into her shoulder and hugging her tightly. Martin began to sob and tear at his hair wildly. Even Douglas had his head in his hands and was muttering, “Oh God, oh God, we’re going to die. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my daughter…”

“Calm down, we aren’t going to die,” the Doctor said firmly, pulling out his screwdriver and squeezing Martin’s shoulder reassuringly. “Captain, with me. Be brave.”

Martin looked into the Doctor’s eyes. They were strange eyes, somehow alien and old even though the man’s face was unlined and perfectly human looking. Once again, he felt calmed by his presence. He stood up, straightening his shoulders. Because, dammit, _he_ was the captain of this vessel, and that meant he should deal with pirates!

“Douglas, I’m going to have to borrow your hat. Oh, and also your jacket,” the Doctor said, smiling. “Well, hurry up now!” he added when Douglas didn’t react, for all the world as if they were in the middle of an odd impromptu costume party instead of a pirate attack. Douglas shrugged out of his jacket and took off his hat, and the Doctor handed Douglas his tweed jacket. “Hm, I really _do_ like these hats,” the Doctor said, twirling around in his first officer outfit. “Now, let’s go, Captain! And don’t lose the jacket!”

“Martin, what are you doing? You’ll be killed.” Carolyn was still holding Arthur.

“It’ll be fine, Carolyn,” Martin said, sounding much more certain than he felt. He thought he saw a look of approval on the Doctor’s face.

Martin followed the Doctor out of the flight deck and into the galley. The Doctor did something to the flight deck door with his sonic screwdriver. “Why’d you need Douglas’s things? Have you got a plan?”

Martin saw the Doctor shrug. “Still putting one together, actually.” Martin had the wild urge to laugh.

Now that they were away from the big front window, everything was very dark and hard to see. Martin bumped his hip quite hard on the kitchen counter and yelped.

“Shush!” the Doctor said, and he pulled both of them down to crouch behind the fridge, peering down the darkened length of the plane into the passenger cabin. It was impossible to see anything. “Listen,” the Doctor whispered.

Martin was silent, trying not to breathe too hard, which was difficult as fear was returning and threatening to close up his throat. But despite his best efforts all he heard was silence.

“I can’t hear anything. _Oh._ They’ve stopped banging at the door,” Martin whispered. Did that mean the Doctor’s play-dead ploy had worked? “Have they left?”

“It could be that they’re already inside. If they had left, we would have heard them,” the Doctor said and Martin felt dizzy with horror. But there was something else spidering through his veins, something he had only felt before when taking off into space in a plane and seeing a horizon of stardust and space forever around. Sharp adrenaline, heady excitement. It was overwhelming and the most amazing thing. He felt like his very mind was flying. “Doctor, we’re probably going to lose our gravity in a minute or two. That’ll probably take them by surprise right? And we could… I dunno…” Martin trailed off.

“ _Oh_!” the Doctor exclaimed quietly and turned to face Martin so rapidly, Martin almost fell over. “You’re brilliant, Captain,” he said, putting both hands on Martin’s shoulders. Martin smiled tentatively. No one had ever told him that before. Except Arthur of course. And in Arthur Shappey’s eyes, _everything_ was brilliant.

“So. Plan,” the Doctor turned around again to peer around the refrigerator. “When the gravity field goes out, that split second, you and I will board their ship. If I’m right—and I usually am—and they’ve set up an air pathway between the two ships, we should be okay.” The Doctor began to creep forward into the corridor, with Martin inching behind.

“What about Carolyn and the others?”

“I’ve bolted the door shut with my sonic screwdriver. They’d need a ram to burst through that, and that’ll be practically impossible if the gravity’s gone.”

“And what are we supposed to do once we’re onboard their ship?” He realized he was sounding desperate. This plan didn’t seem as foolproof as he had hoped.

“We disengage the immobilization device that’s keeping your spaceship suspended, return back, and fly off to the Cerisian Moon! Simple.”

Martin was about to protest, but the Doctor crept forward once more, and he had no choice but to follow. They entered the passenger cabin, and now Martin could see the shadowy figures of their intruders. There weren’t that many, but Martin didn’t know if that was because they didn’t have many people on their ship or if they had seen tiny GERTI and only sent a few men or if these men were just so strong and scary they only needed—

The silence was broken with the sound of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver, the darkness lit away with the glowing green end of it.

“What the hell are you doing?! They’ve seen us,” Martin hissed. _Doesn’t that thing have a silent mode?!_

“Gravity will go in twenty seconds. Be prepared,” the Doctor said.

“They’re here, the ship’s not dead!” a gruff voice bellowed, and the figures began to run towards where they saw the light of the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor pulled Martin away to the other side of the passenger cabin. In the darkness they were practically invisible.

_15…14…13…_

“Where are they? I can’t see a bloody thing!” another voice shouted.

_9…8…7…_

“Get some light in here,” a third voice ordered, this one much more calm and authoritative than the other two. There was a rummaging noise. Martin realized his fingertips were digging into the Doctor’s arm, but the Doctor didn’t seem to notice. Not for the first time today, Martin wondered what the Doctor really did for a living.

_4…3…2…_

“Now!” the Doctor yelled, just as the cabin was flooded with light from some sort of lantern that one of the pirates were holding. Martin just had a glimpse of black leather and gray goggles before the ground left his feet. The gravity field had deactivated.

“What the—?” one of the pirates said, groping wildly in midair.

The Doctor rocketed past them, pushing against the wall with his legs and flying forward. Martin followed a split second later. They pushed past the floating pirates, who spun helplessly in midair. They found the kicked down hatch door.

“Careful, once we get into the air corridor the gravity will come back,” the Doctor said. They dropped into the air corridor, which was glowing and pulsating oddly with energy. The walls of it were slightly transparent as well, and Martin could see the open space outside, giving him an odd sense of vertigo. Just as he was beginning to feel dizzy, the Doctor pulled him forward and into the pirate spaceship.

Martin wasn’t sure if it was any better. At least he wasn’t dizzy anymore. The pirate ship was empty. It looked like it had once been sleek and orderly, but now the walls were grimy, the lights flickering. Panels from the floor and ceiling lay unattached and hanging, showing the raw network of pipes and wires underneath. The ship hummed beneath their feet, but Martin felt it had seen much better days. A skeleton ship without skin.

“So where do we find the controls?” Martin whispered. They couldn’t linger much longer or else the pirates in GERTI would come back and find them.

The Doctor pushed up Douglas’s hat, which was too big and had fallen over his eyes. _What does he need it for anyway? Did he just take it because he liked that hat?_ “This way,” the Doctor replied, ducking down a narrow corridor to their right. Martin was about to follow when the Doctor ran back and pulled Martin in the other direction.

“No, not this way. Run!” And from around the corner erupted three space pirates, each holding deadly looking blaster guns. As Martin turned to run, he felt something hit his hat. He reached up as he ran to grab it, but his hand just came back with a handful of ashes. And then they ducked around a corner and the onslaught of fire was abated.

“My hat…” Martin said. It was really absurd to be feeling this _now_ but he had really liked that hat. Now there was just one more reason why no one would believe he was a Captain.

“Yes, it is awfully horrible to have one’s favorite hat disintegrated by a blaster beam, isn’t it?” The Doctor sounded genuinely sympathetic, a touch nostalgic, as if remembering a friend. “Anyway, we have to keep moving!”

They began running again down the labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and Martin wondered just how large this ship was. And then they turned once more, and a door was opening in front of them, and the three pirates from before were in front of them, blasters raised and ready. And then from behind, more pirates came, the ones who had gotten into GERTI. They were cornered.

Martin and the Doctor stopped in their tracks, raising their hands in submission. One of the pirates stepped forward and Martin recognized his calm and authoritative voice from before. All the pirates seemed to be made up of different species. This pirate was the tallest out of them, with spidery long limbs, dusky black skin, large drooping ears, and tiny squinted eyes. “It’s no use running. Were you the only ones on the ship?”

Martin’s throat felt too stuck for him to answer, but luckily the Doctor spoke up. “Yes, we were. Me and him, we were the… pilots.”

There was a change, suddenly the pirates were looking at them less in a hostile way and more… appreciative. Their eyes seemed to take in their jackets, the epaulets, the Doctor’s hat (Martin felt the loss of his own hat sharply). “Pilots, you say?” the pirate said. Martin gulped.

The Doctor seemed to find it safe enough to lower his hands. This used to be part of the Arsenium Fleet, right? A noble, fine ship. The pride of Arsenia.” The Doctor ran his hand over the grimy wall of the ship. “So why has her crew turned rogue?”

The tall pirate’s eyes were cold and flinty. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Arsenia’s not really got anything to be proud of anymore, not after that war at least.”

He gestured to the rest of his crew. They all had tired, hard worn faces, faces that had seen comrades die. Martin realized that the faded black leather they were all wearing were once uniforms. Most of them had gray goggles on, hitched up to the tops of their heads.

“We’ve done what we have to survive,” the pirate said defensively, chin raised and shoulders squared, and it struck Martin at how young he was to be leading such a group of people. He saw the Doctor smile and nod. Didn’t he realize they were probably going to be blasted in ashes?

He was surprised when the tall pirate motioned for everyone to lower their guns. “You two are in luck, being pilots. We need you. Not many people know how to fly ships nowadays, not with automated pilots and all that.” He turned to one of his men. “Lock them up while I go talk to the captain.”

And they were forcefully led away, steered down yet another corridor by two hulking pirates who looked very akin to rhinoceroses. “I thought _he_ was the captain,” Martin whispered to the Doctor.

“Hathe is the Captain’s first mate, second in charge,” the pirate holding Martin supplied gruffly.

“He’s quite young,” the Doctor said.

“Hathe is special,” the other pirate grunted, in a tone that ended all further discussion. Martin and the Doctor were shoved into a small storage room, the door locked behind them. The room was small, empty except for a few dusty crates. Dim starlight streamed in through a tiny hole of a window.

“Well, your plan didn’t work,” Martin said, feeling very tired and sitting down on a crate.

“No, well I didn’t really expect it to,” the Doctor said, now scanning the walls with his sonic screwdriver. The noise of it really was starting to get on Martin’s nerves.

“Hence, stealing Douglas’s clothing,” Martin said, not phrasing it like a question but the Doctor answered anyway.

“Hence, stealing Douglas’s clothing,” the Doctor said, putting away his screwdriver.

“Hang on, if they think we were the only ones on GERTI, what’s to stop them from just taking us and leaving?” Martin’s insides squirmed at the possibility of being taken away forever from his life at MJN. He might complain nearly daily about it being a horrible job, but he really was fond of it.

The Doctor shook his head. “No, they’ll probably tow your little spaceplane with them. This ship is in a high state of disrepair, it’s practically falling apart. They’ll probably take your plane and break it up for parts.”

“It isn’t _my plane_.”

“What?”

“You keep saying ‘my plane’. But it isn’t. GERTI is Carolyn’s plane. I’m just… the Captain.” Martin surprised even himself with the bitter edge in his voice.

“GERTI?” the Doctor questioned.

“Golf Echo Romeo Tango India. From the days when they used the phonetic alphabet, you know.” Martin smiled a little, settling his head on the cool wall behind him and staring up out of the window into the starry sky. “I don’t want them to break her up for parts. I love that plane, I…” Martin took a deep breath. “I love flying her, love being her pilot,” he said quietly. He felt the Doctor’s hand on his shoulder and turned to look at him.

“I know what you mean,” the Doctor said, and Martin couldn’t imagine any other five words he’d ever needed more to hear.

The Doctor became more animated, grinning and gesturing wildly. “I have this ship, the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Not the phonetic alphabet, no, but still _cool_. She’s lovely, blue and big and borrowed.”

“What happened to her?”

Here the Doctor flushed, his ears going bright red in the starlight, his fingers fidgeting together. He cleared his throat. “We were travelling, going for a… joy ride…?” He looked very uncomfortable. “Perhaps it was a bit irresponsible, flying the TARDIS in _quite_ that way. But… certain events happened, and I was thrown out. Luckily we were flying near enough your planet at the time that I wasn’t hurt.”

Martin blinked. “Right. So you were flying it with someone else then?”

If possible, the Doctor turned even redder. “Yes, she… she has the TARDIS. She’s waiting for me at the Cerisian moon. Apparently when I was thrown out, the TARDIS went into emergency protocol and just landed there. Only I can unlock her.”

“So, this ‘she’. Your… girlfriend?” Martin asked.

“Wife. But… not quite yet.”

“Not _yet_? You mean, you’re engaged?” Martin asked as he watched the Doctor squirm. How hard was it to tell if you were married or not?

But at that point, they were interrupted by an audible voice outside. Hathe was back. “Clorr, Max, you can leave. The Captain wants to see them,” they heard him say. And a second later, the door opened.

“Come on. And don’t try anything. I do have a gun. Don’t make me use it.” Hathe spent a minute examining the Doctor and Martin, as if he was unsure of something. “Come on, then.”

He took them to another room, locked the door behind them, flicked the door open. The captain’s office, the control room, full of controls and levers and flashing lights that Martin only vaguely knew the purpose of. It was also completely empty. The door closed behind them.

“There isn’t a captain,” Hathe said, his voice expressionless. “He’s dead. Dad’s dead.”

Martin heard the Doctor exhale out of his nose. “The Captain was your father.”

“He picked up the plague that was going around in the Lathax Space Station. It went so quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to…” Hathe’s squinty eyes looked wet and he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.

“Please, I need your help. He was the only one who can fly this thing. I know how to set it on a pre-planned course, but unless we can steer it away, we’re just going to keep going on forever. We need supplies. The other crew members, they don’t know. If they found out, they’d panic. Please, you have to help.” Hathe’s voice broke near the end, and he looked down at Martin and the Doctor with such desperation that Martin temporarily forgot all the danger they were in, all the high chances of him never seeing Carolyn or Arthur or Douglas again, and just felt like comforting him.

“Don’t worry, Hathe. I’m sure we can steer you to the nearest space station. I believe there’s one not far from here.” The Doctor clapped Hathe on the back, and the boy looked utterly grateful, as if a large weight had been taken off his shoulders.

Martin cleared his throat and shot a significant look at the Doctor.

“ _If_ you agree to unlock GERTI and let it go on its way to the Cerisian Moon,” the Doctor continued.

Hathe nodded. “If you help us, of course I’ll let you go.”

The Doctor beamed. “Wonderful! Martin, take the wheel.”

Martin choked. “M-me?” He turned to the controls. They looked practically unrecognizable. “B-but I’ve never…” He felt the Doctor’s hands on his shoulders behind him, heard his voice in his ear. “Come on, Martin. Concentrate. You’re a _pilot_. The technology of this ship is not very far from the technology on your little spaceplane. In fact, this software may be even less advanced.”

Martin stepped up tentatively to the controls. On closer examination, he was able to make some sense of it. “I… I think I can do it,” he said incredulously. He examined a screen and swallowed. “And I th-think I’d better hurry. We’re about to fall into a black hole in about twenty minutes.”

Hathe looked like he was about to say something to Martin when the door was kicked open. Hathe’s pirate crew stepped in, holding three struggling humans in their wake.

Martin gasped. “Carolyn! Arthur, Douglas!”

“We managed to get the gravity turned back on in the spaceplane, Hathe. And we found _these_. What do you reckon we should do with ‘em?” The pirate holding Carolyn said. He had a nasty looking bruise that was beginning to form on his right eye. Martin was relieved to see that Carolyn was unhurt, as were Douglas and Arthur.

“Planet Sayshe still has slavery. We could probably get a good price for them, don’t you think?” another pirate said.

Martin’s face paled. “No!” he yelled. Everyone’s attention was directed towards him, standing with his hands slightly poised over the control.

“Hey, what’s he doin’ there?” a pirate yelled, and then looked around. “Hathe, where’s the captain?”

Hathe raised his hands in placation. “Listen, you have to believe me. The captain’s dead but…”

“ _Dead_!” a pirate exclaimed. “Who’s gonna fly us?”

“Don’t worry,” Hathe said slowly, as if trying to recover a modicum of the authoritative voice he had spoken with earlier. “Martin will fly us.”

Martin spluttered as everyone’s attention turned to him once more. “I…I…I…”

A pirate strode forward, two guns on his hips, a menacing glower coloring his face red. He was scarred and scary, and his nose was completely flat, like fighters who had had the bones of it removed so it wouldn’t keep breaking. “We are _not_ putting him in charge.” He was met with shouts of approval. “Get him!” he bellowed, and pirates rushed forward, seizing Martin and the Doctor.

“But we’re… there’s a black hole and…” Martin let out a gasp of pain as the pirate holding him sharply twisted his arm.

“Stop, let him explain,” Hathe said, and he had a blaster gun pointed to the flat-nosed pirate’s head. Martin was released. He stumbled to the screen again, pulling it around so everyone could see. “Look, the g-gravity’s collapsing, and we’re accelerating. That can only mean we’re coming towards a black hole.” _And with GERTI in tow_ , Martin added silently.

“He was going to steer us away from it,” Hathe explained. The other pirates looked suspicious, but also scared. After what seemed ages, the flat-nosed pirate stepped back and nodded. “Fine.” The pirate holding the Doctor pulled back, and the Doctor went to Martin’s side.

“Martin, Martin, Captain Martin. This is your hour,” the Doctor grinned. He went over to Arthur, Douglas and Carolyn and ran his sonic screwdriver over their bonds, freeing their hands. The other pirates didn’t stop him. The ship had begun to shake and rattle. It was too old. It was creaking. And it was being sucked into a crushing black vacuum.

Martin forced himself to calm down. Douglas, Arthur, Carolyn. They needed him. The Doctor trusted him. “Hello, this is your Captain speaking. Just to let you know we _will_ be arriving on the Cerisian Moon. Sorry for the delay,” he said softly to himself. Cracked his knuckles. Let his fingers find their way across the control board.

It was difficult. They were much too close to the black hole and the ship was much too old. Also, he had GERTI to worry about, worried that the tiny spaceplane would break free its tethers and spin out and away. The crew was silent, watching as they drifted closer and closer to what they could see now was definitely a collapsing star.

If he could only form a second artificial gravity field around the ship and GERTI, it could cancel out the effect somewhat. “Anti gravity… anti gravity…” Martin moaned to himself, fingers faltering.

“Here.” Douglas was beside him, guiding Martin.

One by one the flashing danger lights disappeared, went out, went quiet. The ship went completely still for a frightening moment, not a shake or a quaver. And slowly, it began to fly away. Faster and faster, slowly picking up speed.

The crew behind him burst into cheers. Martin had forgotten they were even there. He laughed giddily as his back was pounded by a horde of cheerful pirates and he steered the ship to the nearest space station.

The Doctor was smiling at him and it made Martin feel like a hero.

They said their goodbyes later, to Hathe and his crew (“Goodbye Captain” “Goodbye Captain”). And Martin settled into his worn, graying seat next to first officer Douglas, and he flew them onwards to the Cerisian Moon. The journey went quickly. The Doctor never did end up going back to his seat, but spun around the flight deck, telling them about an impossible planet in orbit around a black hole. Arthur brought in coffee and told Martin he was brilliant for the tenth time that day. Even Carolyn was cheerful. The pirates had towed them so near to the Cerisian Moon, that the amount of money they had saved on petrol would pay for all hotel expenses for a week.

It was a happy time. Adrenaline still churning through their systems, helped along by caffeine and laughter.

Martin got to see the blue box eventually. Carolyn grudgingly gave him a whole week off so he and the Doctor went to go find her. She was in the middle of a thick dark jungle, startlingly blue against the green. He craned his neck too far with disbelief coming in ( _it was bigger on the inside_!), tripped over his feet and fell over. The Doctor laughed and helped him up, introduced him to the TARDIS and River Song.

When he got back to the spacefield a week later inside a blue police box, he was able to tell the rest of the MJN crew, without a doubt, that the Doctor was definitely a madman with a box.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my [tumblr](http://travellinglemon.tumblr.com/).


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